


Backward Glances

by CallMeCaptain



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Grief, Mental Regression, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pyrophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCaptain/pseuds/CallMeCaptain
Summary: A story about a house fire and those who were affected by it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are book canon in appearance, age, and so on. 
> 
> Credit to GRRM for characters and place names.

Sandor awoke, short of breath and sweating.

He struggled against his sheets, kicking at the offensive linens until he was free. Damp hair clung to his face and he swiped it away before swinging his legs to the floor. Another night of lost sleep, but he’d grown used to it over the years. 

With a sigh, he eased himself out of bed and shuffled towards his bedroom door. Coffee and the new book he'd gotten last week sounded good right now. _Might even head out for a jog._

A warm glow from the window drew his attention. He could have mistaken it for the early dawn if it wasn’t flickering. The nightmare hadn’t woken him, he realized. It was the hint of smoke.

Slack-jawed and boneless, Sandor watched as the faint light grew and illuminated his sparse bedroom.

He didn’t realize he was moving until his bare feet scraped against the abrasive fabric of his doormat. Outside, the air was heavier and acrid. It curled up inside his lungs, stinging as he heaved.

There. The Stark House. It stood catty-corner to his own home. There were people outside, but not the right ones. 

Whatever noises there might have been were lost on his slowly regressing mind. 

Sandor’s knees failed him.

He crawled off his porch, across his lawn and knelt there at the edge of his property. He blinked slowly, eyes already watery-  _from the smoke-choked air_ , he told himself.

The Starks managed to get out. He watched as Mr. Stark ushered his family across the street. The man's wife was screaming, Sandor was sure of it, but no sound registered. She clutched the smallest boy and gestured wildly at the house. The older boys, the skinny brat who liked to trespass, and the cripple were all dazed and silent. The idiot neighbors were darting around them, wrapping them in blankets, pressing bottles of water into limp hands. 

Before anyone could stop him, Mr. Stark dashed back across the street and vanished into the house.

 _No._  

_No NO NO-_

_That man will die. The fire will take him. The fire took all._

Sandor's glassy gaze moved over the blazing house. He could feel his chest tightening as he struggled to breathe. His heart was running too quickly, tripping over itself.

His swollen, muffled mind knew something was wrong.  _Something_  was missing. A tentative wave and a polite hello fluttered weakly in an unused corner of his memory.

_Where?_

Something pale flashed briefly in an unscorched upstairs window.

_There._

Sandor lurched to his feet. He didn’t remember moving.

_The fire takes all._

_All_

_ALL OF IT_

_IT TAKES-_

He didn’t remember much of anything.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The fire had already taken the stairs by the time Sansa startled awake.

She could smell smoke and hear her mother screaming from somewhere. Fear gripped her, confining her to her bed. She could hear people shouting outside and after several long seconds, the fire safety mantras came back to her.

_Stay close to the floor so you don’t breathe in smoke._

_Try to find a way out._

_Test doors with the back of your hand. If it’s hot, find another way out._

She rolled out of bed, knocking her stuffed animals to the floor. Down on her belly, she squirmed her way to the door. She could feel the heat and see the smoke curling under it, but she checked just like she'd been told. The door felt only a little warm, so she opened it carefully.

Her lungs were scorched when she gasped at the sight of the flames licking their way up the walls of the staircase. She slammed the door shut and scrabbled into the bathroom that connected her bedroom to her sister’s.  

The door leading into Arya’s room was ajar, but Sansa knew Arya had stayed downstairs with Bran. It was the weekend and they always watched scary movies on the weekend. Scary movies gave Sansa nightmares, so she opted to stay upstairs and sleep. 

 _Did they get out?_  

A small sob tumbled its way out of her. Bran couldn’t walk, but his room was on the ground floor.  _Maybe they made it-_

From the hallway, a sharp crack followed by a boom tore her from her thoughts. She scrambled into the tub and turned on the cold water. Taking one, two, three deep breaths, she ducked under the showerhead with a tiny yelp.  

_Try to find another way out._

Numb from the icy water and the situation, Sansa pulled herself out of the tub and crawled back into her room. Smoke was puffing under her door faster steadily. It had become so thick she couldn’t see her ceiling fan or the posters that papered her walls.

Her hands and knees stung from scraping along the carpet, but she scooted her way to her window. Careful of the smoke, she poked her head up to see if her family was outside.

She spotted them across the street. Jon and Arya were sitting on the curb with Bran in between them. Her mother was holding Rickon and crying. Neighbors were swarming. She couldn’t see Robb or her father. Sansa ducked back down, nails digging into the window frame. 

 _What if they didn’t make it?_  

A surge of heat blossomed behind her; she turned and inhaled sharply, gagging on the smoke.

Her door was burning up.

Frozen in fear, she stared transfixed as the flames devoured it. 

Glass shattered from her sister’s room, drawing her attention away from the fire. As she watched, something enormous and dark hurtled out of her bathroom.

Her addled brain tried to make sense of what she saw.  _A giant- no, giants aren't real._

His knees and shins were smeared with dirt and so were his hands. Long, dark hair swung in front of his face as he turned his head and locked eyes with her. Before he could move, Sansa’s door buckled suddenly, scattering smoldering pieces of wood into her room.

Her own shriek of fear was swallowed up by the inhuman scream that tore from the hulking man as he dropped to his knees. She watched in horror as he scrambled towards her, his face twisted with fear. The wall kept her in place as his large, grimy hand darted out and latched onto her ankle.

Her bladder emptied itself.

They were both screaming as he dragged her across the floor and into the bathroom. Sansa tried to twist her leg free, but he was pulling her  _away_ from the inferno in her room.

And she recognized him, she realized. He was one of their neighbors.  _The mean one._ Her terror-hazed mind supplied.

He was sobbing hysterically as he yanked her into her sister’s room. Glass covered the floor in front of the window that he must have busted to get in. Sansa could hear her mother's screams and the far-off wail of approaching sirens. The two blended, sounding all too similar.

Fire roared behind them and under them. She could feel it beneath the soles of her feet. Paying no mind to the glass, the man writhed on the floor groaning hoarsely. His eyes rolled white.

 _I can’t drag him like he dragged me. He’s too big._ Sansa thought, panic edging in. The fire would be in the room at any minute.  

Huddled on the floor as near him as she dared, she called out, trying to get his attention.

“Sir! We need to get out! Sir,  _please_!"  She was sobbing now too. The man’s eyes snapped to her, glassy, wild and unseeing.

The heat was unbearable, and the smoke was becoming thicker near the floor. It burned her eyes and choked her. Before she could say anything else, he snatched her up again and hauled her toward the mangled window. Just outside, the roof of the porch was readily available underneath it.

 _This is how Arya kept sneaking out._  The thought popped up, out of place. 

A large hand pushed her head down and out of the window harshly, forcing her to clamber out onto the scratchy shingles.

 _"Sansa!"_   She heard her mother shriek.

The man tumbled out of the window behind her, cutting himself on the broken glass she'd managed to avoid. He was panting and shaking, his face covered in sweat and tears. Sansa thought he might collapse and roll off the roof, but he just knelt there on his bloodied hands and knees. 

At the edge of the roof, a ladder appeared along with the masked face of a fireman. He beckoned for them to come, shouting something Sansa couldn't make out.

Behind her, the man crawled forward, pushing her to the edge of the porch roof. Once she was on the ladder, he dropped himself down and didn't get back up. Emergency personnel swarmed his still body.

Sansa was whisked into the back of an ambulance before she could see what became of the terrified man who saved her. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the first two chapters, I just wanted to have the event as a standalone from both Sandor and Sansa's POV. From here on, chapters should be longer.
> 
> This is probably not going to be the happiest fic. I apologize in advance.


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